Episode 9: In Case of Emergency
by Castle Season 9
Summary: When a Department of Sanitation worker is found shot in an alley behind a Manhattan hotel, the team from the 12th Precinct is charged with finding the person responsible for killing a man everyone claims to love. Meanwhile, Castle fights bad weather and flight delays to make it home in time for an important appointment. Season 9, Episode 9.
1. Chapter 1

**In Case of Emergency**

Season 9, Episode 9

Written by Trinity Everett

 _This is a work of fiction by writers with no professional connection to ABC network's Castle. Recognizable characters are the property of Andrew Marlowe and ABC. Names, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental._

* * *

He freaking hated waking up at 4:15.

It was a necessary evil – 4:15 was the latest he could roll out of bed and be able to make it to the ferry and into the city in time for his 6:45 shift – but it still sucked. Hard.

It sucked even harder when the rain hadn't stopped in almost a day. The early December drizzle meant traffic was worse than normal, people were bitchier than normal, and he was going to be cramming into a packed subway car with the damp masses.

Sure enough, he ended up standing between two men in dark baseball jackets who seemed to be having a competition over who could find the perfect blend of stale body odor, pine deodorant, and the sharp scent of wet dog. So far, it was a tie; no winners, only losers.

To make it worse, when he emerged from Grand Central Station – later than normal, of course – he was greeted with a gust of wind, the pelt of sleet, and a small tidal wave of rain water, engine oil, and god only knew what else courtesy of a passing city bus.

He sighed, ignoring the stares coming from the growing line of caffeine addicts waiting for their morning fix at Starbucks and swiping his hands over the legs of his uniform pants. Soaked and dirty, and he hadn't even made it to work yet. Yeah, it was going to be a great day.

Then again, it wasn't all bad. Rainy days meant more people wanted to just get inside, which meant more people shoving their bags at him to load onto a cart and push to their room, which meant larger and more frequent tips.

And that meant he could party this weekend.

Halle-freaking-lujah. It had been too damn long since he had enjoyed a drink and an evening at the hookah bar.

Yeah, that would make getting drenched and ruining yet another pair of work shoes somewhat worthwhile. Besides, if he was lucky, he would be able to duck into uniform storage and grab a pair of pants in his size. They weren't supposed to do that, but he could wash them over the weekend and return them and nobody would be the wiser.

Fifteen minutes later, he finally rounded the corner to the service entrance of the Waldorf Astoria. His hand disappeared into his pocket, searching for the keycard that would open the door and get him out of the blowing rain, only to have the plastic slip from his fumbling, frigid fingers and clatter to the ground.

Muttering, he sank to his knees, searching for the damn thing in the hazy pre-dawn light. Thankfully, it hadn't tumbled far, just a few feet beside the door, though that meant digging at the base of a few trash cans the night shift hadn't bothered to put away to peel the card from the wet ground. It didn't budge, forcing him to dig his nails into the pavement to release the suction.

"Finally," he grumbled, getting to his feet and stepping to the door. "Now I can get i–"

He blinked, wondering if the early hour was playing tricks on him. No, what he was seeing was real, very real. Red streaked down the keycard, staining his nails, his hand.

"What the hell?"

Was that _blood_?

His eyes shot back to the row of garbage bins, searching for the source. Maybe it was kitchen waste, the remnants of the steaks the cook had insisted on bringing in for their "most dignified" (richest) guests leaking out of a bag that hadn't been sealed properly. Maybe it was–

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. It wasn't the steaks. It wasn't the steaks at all. That was a boot. A work boot, heavy duty, well-worn.

And attached to a leg.

"Oh shi–"

* * *

"Babe, you should be asleep," Kate Beckett chided, burying her face in her husband's pillow. After two weeks it was beginning to lose the scent of his aftershave, but she used her imagination when she held her cell phone to her ear in the gray light of early morning, picturing him beside her. "You're going to be exhausted."

Castle's denial rattled through the speaker. "I'm okay. I wanted to catch you before you left for work, see how your night was."

Her lips lifted. Every morning when he called, he said the same thing: he just wanted to catch her before work. "We're fine."

"I didn't ask."

"Mhmm. I talked to you before I fell asleep, remember? You know how my night was."

"Yeah, but after that." She could hear him fidgeting and pictured him mirroring her actions, rolling onto his side and curling around what would be her pillow. "How'd you sleep? How are you feeling?"

"I feel great, Rick. Up and down to pee like usual, but otherwise fine. Not even indigestion from last night's dinner."

"After my mother cooked?" he asked, feigning incredulity. "That's not just fine, that's a miracle."

"Hush. And I cooked," Kate added, grinning into the pillow at his guffaw. Hearing him happy and relaxed warmed her in ways the heavy down comforter couldn't. The only thing that would make it better would be to have him actually beside her, have his chest lifting and jostling under her ear as he laughed.

He would be home soon, but it wasn't soon enough.

"Well, that's good. Hopefully little one won't object to what I'm bringing home, either."

"Wait, what are you bringing home?" she asked, running a hand over her belly, testing out its still unfamiliar roundness, slight as it was. Her husband hummed in reply, noncommittal, forcing her to prompt him again, "Castle? What are you bringing home?"

Even over the phone, his chuckle was disarming. And a little bit annoying. "Do you remember that little bakery we found on our skiing trip?"

"The one with the muffins?" she asked, feeling her mouth water a little at the reminder. That place had been perfect, so delicious, and had Rick not broken his knee and forced her attention elsewhere, they would've gone back half a dozen times.

"Uh huh. And the danishes."

She groaned, covering her mouth in a failed attempt to disguise the sound. "Don't remind me of those unless you're going to tell me you're bringing me a dozen – no, a case."

Even through the phone, she felt him grinning. "Well, since you're asking nicely…" Self-satisfaction dripped from every word. "They'll be the perfect snack before our appointment on Tuesday. I found the sister store when I was wandering around the other day, and they taste exactly the same."

"That's true," she agreed, swallowing the ping of uneasiness over the upcoming ultrasound and testing they were having done. "Get some of the blueberry. Oh, and the raspberry, too."

"And a couple of the chocolate chip," he added.

Kate wrinkled her nose, but didn't argue. He was bringing her some of the most mouthwatering pastries she had eaten on this side of the Atlantic Ocean; beggars wouldn't be choosers.

"Did I mention I love you," she said instead, dropping her hand to her stomach again. Hunger tugged at her insides, growing more insistent with each passing second. "And that I wish you were here now?"

"Me? Or the muffins and danishes?" Castle teased. "And actually you didn't, so–"

"Yeah, yeah. So what are you going to do until the bakery opens? And don't say they'll make an exception for you and open early, because nobody is a big enough fan to open up their store for you at 5-something in the morning."

He hummed. "I thought I would get some coffee and do some writing, but if you don't have anywhere to be, maybe we could turn this phone call into a video call? See a bit more of each other?"

Her chuckle slipped out without permission. "See a bit more of each other, hmm? As in..."

"Uh huh. If you're game, of course."

It had been two weeks since she had seen and touched her husband last. She was game, very game. And she told him so.

"Okay, so I'll hang up and call you right back?" he asked, just as eager to see her face (and maybe more than that) as she was to see his.

"Yeah. I'll be here."

Retreating back onto her own side of the bed, Kate propped her phone against his pillow and waited. Attempting to minimize the distance between them by pretending he was right next to her wasn't the same, but it worked in a pinch.

A moment later, he called back, smiling at her through the front camera on his phone. "That's better. Though I think you're a little bit overdressed for this kind of conversation."

In his t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, she really wasn't, but her lips curved upwards. "You expected me to answer topless?"

Her husband lifted a shoulder, his smile a little sleep-silly. "Well, I wouldn't have said no."

"That's a little wham, bam, thank you, don't you think? Not very smooth of you, Mr. Castle."

"Just trying to make the most of our time before you–" His voice sputtered as a text notification appeared at the top of her screen. Kate frowned, touching her fingers to her husband's face before opening the message. "–get a call."

"Got a body they want me to see," she murmured, tapping out a reply before returning to the call. "Sorry, Rick. Video call sex another time."

"Damn." Castle shook his head, looking forlorn for a split second before brightening. "Oh! You know what we could do?"

* * *

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Beckett muttered, stepping out of the car and cradling her phone.

Castle's eager grin reflected back at her. The entire drive over he had patted himself on the back for his ingenuity and resourcefulness while she had rolled her eyes.

"I'm consulting, Beckett. Isn't this what a good civilian investigator does?"

Her frown softened. He still hadn't heard back about the civilian investigator position she had come across a few months ago, and while they both knew he didn't _need_ an official title to be at the precinct with her, she knew he hated not knowing whether he had the job or not.

"It is, Rick. It's still weird to be carrying your face up to a crime scene, but it is."

"I think it's innovative," he said, falling silent as she greeted the uniformed officers guarding the edge of the crime scene. Donaldson and Rodriguez looked amused, but otherwise didn't comment on her partner's unorthodox method of tagging along today.

Turning the phone for Castle's benefit, she took a moment to survey the alley. All things considered, it seemed normal. Garbage piles at various points along the stretch, cramped loading bays intended for deliveries, back doors for employees to come and go. So unless their killer had a key, there was only one way they could've come and gone.

She walked the rest of the scene in silence, noting a few stains she was sure had nothing to do with the murder and a few deep red ones she was sure had everything to do with the person her team huddled around.

"Morning, guys," she called, giving the man slumped against the far wall with Officer Julian a careful look. His hair fell damp over his forehead, and the Waldorf Astoria uniform he wore looked like it had seen better days. If the green tinge to his cheeks was any indication, he had been the one to find the body. "What've you got for me?"

Ryan and Esposito straightened, doing their best to make their expressions bland when they saw her phone. Okay, it was a little funny.

"Morning Captain, Castle."

"Morning Ryan, 'Sito," Castle greeted, jovial as ever. "Looks a little wet out there."

Espo shifted, shaking raindrops from his jacket. "Yeah, that's it, be smug. You're in a cushy hotel while we're out here in the nasty weather."

"Wow. I was just saying hi. I'll just talk to Ryan from now on."

"Why don't we talk about our victim instead?" Beckett jumped in, lifting her eyebrows in Esposito's direction before returning her attention to the dead man and the ME kneeling beside him. "What do you have for me, Lanie?"

Her friend's head lifted, but instead of the usual determined clarity in her eyes, Kate saw unrest.

"Everything okay?" she asked, unable to stop the question from spilling out of her mouth.

If she were anyone else, she might not have noticed Lanie's hesitation, but the woman was her best friend; she could tell something was up.

But whatever it was, Lanie shook it off, returning her attention to the victim.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. According to the ID we found in his pocket, this is Mr. Aram Zabel. Thirty-eight, resident of Queens, single GSW to the chest. Blood spatter and exit wound indicates a close range shot." Lanie waited for her to squat before rolling the body onto its side, circling her finger around the carnage the bullet had left behind.

Over the phone, Castle made a noise, but refrained from any flippant remarks. Not that she expected any from him; GSWs hit close to home for both of them these days.

"So he was killed here in the alley?" Kate asked, clearing her throat. Getting to her feet didn't come quite as gracefully as it used to, but no one commented when Lanie's gloved hand steadied her ascent.

"The rain has made it a little more difficult, but there's spatter on the wall and on the trash bags, so I feel comfortable saying yes."

"Time of death?"

"Preliminary estimate? Between 10 P.M. and 2 A.M., but I'll know more when I get him on my table."

Beckett nodded, seeing Castle do the same out of the corner of her eye. Huh, it did feel a little like normal, minus his physical presence, of course.

"Thanks, Lanie. I'll let you finish up here."

The ME nodded, making a note on her clipboard and gesturing for two of her assistants to step forward.

Kate turned to her detectives. "What about the murder weapon?"

Ryan lifted an evidence bag. "Found it in the garbage bags by the body. Looks like the killer dropped it and ran after they shot him."

"Get it–"

"To the lab for ballistics, and check for ownership," Ryan finished for her. "On it, boss."

She nodded, glancing at her phone to see if Castle had anything to add.

Her partner cleared his throat, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he jerked his head in the general direction of the doorway. "What about him?"

This time, Esposito took the lead, consulting his notepad. "Leo Kinsler, thirty-two. He's a bellboy at the hotel. He found Zabel on his way into work this morning."

"How does he know the victim? Do they work together?" Beckett asked, ignoring the ridiculous faces her husband made as she swiped raindrops from her phone screen.

Both detectives shook their heads. "Said he'd never seen him before in his life."

"Check on that, will you? See if there's anything else he remembers from this morning before you let him go. And get Vikram to see if we can pull camera footage for this entrance. I want to know if our victim was here by choice or not."

"You got it."

Nodding, she glanced at her phone again. Castle looked to be listening, but didn't seem ready to offer his thoughts. "I'm going back to the precinct to contact Mr. Zabel's next of kin."

The boys agreed, snickering when Rick waved goodbye as she stepped away from the crime scene.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite having their victim's ID, getting in touch with his next of kin proved to be more difficult than Beckett had hoped. His home phone had gone to voicemail the first two times she called, forcing her to leave a message with her name and a request for Mrs. Zabel to contact her.

Now, almost two hours later, she watched LT lead a slight, raven-haired woman with a baby on her hip through the bullpen. Thankfully, the officer's tall, broad body managed to shield Zabel's wife from seeing the majority of the murder board before Kate had a chance to talk to her.

She met them at the door to her office, holding out a hand to the shorter woman. Karen Zabel nodded, slipping bony, thin fingers into Beckett's grip.

"Mrs. Zabel, I'm Kate Beckett. I'm sorry I couldn't come to you to do this, but thank you for coming in."

"It's about my husband, isn't it?" Karen asked, taking her hand back to heft the child in her arms higher on her hip. "What happened to Ari?"

Sorrow settled heavy on Kate's shoulders. So often, she had to be the one to tell someone that their loved one was gone. She had to be the one to turn someone's carefully constructed life upside down. It never got any easier.

Ushering her inside, Beckett gestured to the couch.

"Why don't we talk?" she murmured, watching the woman's hopeful expression fall at the unspoken confirmation.

Karen sank onto the cushions, pressing her face into her confused child's arm. Helpless, Beckett watched her shoulders shake for a moment before she turned to swipe the tissue box from her desk.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," she said after a moment, holding out the box to the other woman. "I hope you don't mind me asking you some questions. I hate to do it now, but the longer we wait, the harder it becomes to catch the person who did this."

Mrs. Zabel sniffed, taking a handful of tissues. "Oh, Ari," she breathed. "What happened to him?"

"We found him this morning outside the Waldorf Astoria hotel. He had been shot. Do you know any reason why your husband would've been at the hotel?"

It was a somewhat awkward way of asking if Karen thought her husband was having an affair or was doing something seedy, but it had to be done.

Zabel shook her head. "No, no I don't."

"When did you last see your husband?"

The baby in Karen's arms squirmed, voicing his – her? – displeasure at being confined.

"Yesterday afternoon. He picked up the kids – our two oldest – from school and then he went to work. He works, worked, at the Department of Sanitation – emergency preparation. He checks the salt trucks and the plows, you know, making sure they're ready to be deployed in a snowstorm."

Beckett nodded, writing that down to check into later.

"He was supposed to work overnight, but his boss called and told me he left during his shift and never came back. He asked if I had seen him. And then I checked the phone after dropping the boys off, and you had called, and–" she broke off, burying her face in her crumpled tissue.

Dipping her head, Kate gave her a moment. There was no easy way to recount what was essentially your husband's last day on earth.

"Did he check in with you at any point last night?"

Karen sucked in a deep breath. "He called at 8:30 to say goodnight to the kids, and then he called again around 11:30 to say goodnight to me. That's when I usually go to bed."

Well, that narrowed down the time of death window. Not by much, but if they could place him at work around that time, it would help.

"Would you mind giving me your husband's work information? I'd like to have my detectives talk to his boss about his shift last night."

"Yeah, yes of course."

Beckett smiled, grabbing a pen and a notepad from the corner of her desk. Reaching out, Karen fumbled a bit before grasping it and pulling it onto her lap to write.

The baby had other ideas. He kicked his feet, curling his fingers around the pen and yanking it off the paper.

"No honey, not now," Karen chided, twisting to put distance between the child and the new toys.

"Here," Kate started, holding out her hands. "I can hold him for you while you write."

"Oh, thank you. I swear he's not usually this fussy, but…"

But he was sensing his mother's discontent, she guessed.

"Of course." Kate stood, doing her best not to look too awkward as she took the child from his mother. She did well with the Ryan children, this one would be just fine.

Plus, it was good practice.

Realizing he was in unfamiliar arms, the boy fussed a little louder, but didn't cry.

"It's just for a minute," she told him, bouncing the way Sarah Grace had always liked when she was that age. "Just while mommy writes."

That seemed to do the trick. Either that, or the necklace she wore really was _that_ enthralling.

Karen looked up, her sad smile emphasizing the lines around her mouth. "If you don't mind me asking, when are you due?"

Beckett stopped. It wasn't the first time someone had eyed the swell of her belly, but it was one of the rare times that someone actually had the guts to ask about it. Most people tended to err on the side of caution and keep their questions to themselves.

"May," she answered, glancing down at her stomach, trying to see what the other woman was seeing. "My husband and I are looking forward to it."

"I understand. Ari and I… well we thought we were done at two, but then Peter came along." Grief marred her face once more. "He loved the boys so much."

"I know he did, Mrs. Zabel, I know. And we will do everything we can to bring the person who did this to him to justice."

Karen nodded, her smile dazed but grateful. Beckett understood that look well; her assurance didn't begin to fix things, but at least it was something.

* * *

"Yo, Beckett, got something interesting for you."

Kate looked up from her computer and the ridiculous email Castle had forwarded to her, beckoning Esposito inside. Once Karen Zabel and her son left, she had handed over Aram's work info to the boys, asking them to make some calls to check on the wife's story while Vikram searched for the camera footage they needed. So far the analyst was still working.

"What do you have?"

"Talked to Zabel's boss down at Sanitation. Said he was a good guy, hard worker, no beefs with anybody and nobody had a beef with him as far as he could tell."

She nodded, lacing her fingers in front of her on the blotter. "Okay, but that sounds like the exact opposite of interesting. That sounds like we're still at square one, having gone nowhere."

"Ah, that's where the interesting part starts. Over the last three months, he'd noticed some changes in Zabel's behavior. He was coming into work exhausted, like he hadn't slept most of the night. Still got his stuff done, but he was tired."

"He did have a small child at home. Maybe the baby was teething? The wife said she goes to bed at 11:30, maybe he'd been taking the late night feedings?"

Javi nodded in consideration. "Well there was the exhaustion, but then Zabel started requesting extra shifts last month. You would think if he was so tired, he wouldn't be trying to work more, right?"

She had to concede that point. "Yeah, that's a little odd. The wife didn't say anything about them having financial trouble."

"Ryan's running that now. And we're checking to see if Aram had a second job at the hotel that his wife didn't know about."

Beckett nodded. "Good. What else?"

Esposito tapped his notepad. "That's it. Boss said that last night was the first time Aram had bailed on a shift, so that made him even more concerned, but he thought at first that maybe there had been a problem with one of the kids and Zabel had just forgotten to sign out or let the night supervisor know. When there wasn't any sort of communication this morning, he called the wife."

"Okay. So we need to find out why our victim left work and how he ended up at the Waldorf."

Her detective nodded. "I'll check his MetroCard activity. Maybe we'll get a hit there."

"Good." She watched him dig his phone out of his pocket. He tapped the screen a few times before pocketing the device.

"Lanie got the toxicology results back. You want me to head over there before I check that?"

The mention of Lanie's name reminded her of the faraway look in her friend's eye that morning. Maybe a trip to the morgue was in order.

"No, I'll go. Get on filling the timeline in while you're running your searches. I'd like to have someone to interrogate soon."

As soon as Esposito was out of her office, Beckett got to her feet, pocketed her cell phone, and grabbed her jacket.

* * *

Esposito must have warned Lanie that she was coming, because her friend was ready with a folder as soon as she stepped into the autopsy suite.

"Hey girl, wasn't expecting a house call."

Quirking a smile, Kate lifted a shoulder. "I have the boys running a few things down, so I thought I would come see what you found."

Lanie smiled, though Kate saw it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Test results were negative for drugs, positive for alcohol. He wasn't legally drunk, but he was well on his way there."

Her brow furrowed. "So he left work to get drunk? That doesn't seem like the guy his wife and his boss gushed about."

"That's more your area than mine, don't you think?"

"What about his health? Did you notice anything there? Anything that might explain some of his recent behavior?"

Lanie's flinch didn't go unnoticed, but Kate kept her mouth shut for the time being, waiting her friend out.

"His lungs were clear, and his heart looked to be in good shape. Nothing in his stomach to indicate illness. No pills, no bleeding ulcers, nothing at all other than some popcorn and peanuts."

"Bar food," she mused, feeling her stomach flutter at the mention of snacks. The kid was making her hungry today.

Lanie nodded. "Given his BAC, I'd say that's a safe guess."

"So maybe he was at the hotel bar?" She reached for her phone, typing the thought to Castle for his opinion. He was at a book signing – or he should've been by then, but he liked when she kept him in the loop.

"Don't ask me, I just slice and dice."

"You do more than that," she assured, nudging her friend with her elbow until the ME's lips lifted and a smile cracked her face. "What's going on, Lane? You're not yourself today. Talk to me?"

Lanie shook her head, stepping away to push one of her carts to the side. "Not right now. I can't right now."

Kate's stomach dropped. That didn't sound good at all. "Okay. How about dinner tonight? Castle won't be home until late, so it'll be just us. I'll pour you a glass of wine and gaze longingly at it." That earned her a real smile. "We can talk then?"

After a few seconds of contemplation, her friend nodded. "Yeah, let's do that. Thanks, Kate."

"Good. I'm going to try to leave by six, but I'll let you know if I need to stay later. Let me know if you get held up, too?" Her phone buzzed in her palm, stalling anything else Lanie might have said. "That's the guys, I have to go."

Lanie nodded. "Go on. I'll call you later, let you tell me what to bring tonight."

"Just you," she said, knowing her friend wouldn't heed that. Lanie had been in New York for a long time, but there was still too much southern charm in her to think about showing up for dinner at someone's house empty-handed.

"I'll bring dessert."

Yep, she knew it.

* * *

The boys were waiting for her at Esposito's desk when she stepped off the elevator, looking pleased with themselves.

"Okay, what has you jazzed up?" Beckett asked, glancing at the murder board for clues to their good mood.

She watched them share a look, waited them out as they silently decided who would be the one to tell her whatever it was they had found.

Finally Ryan spoke up. "So you know I was checking our victim's financials to see if there was any strange activity, or anything that might indicate financial trouble."

"Uh huh," she said, letting her head bob. She was following so far. "And?"

"I went back almost a year to establish a baseline a what was typical for them. Everything was normal until a few months ago when, twice a month, _large_ sums started disappearing."

Interesting. She gestured for him to continue, propping against Javi's desk. "Extra bills? Maybe he was shopping early for Christmas for his kids?"

"I hope not, because if that amount is what you're expected to spend on your kids for Christmas, I'm screwed," Ryan muttered. "They were cash withdrawals every time."

"Made at the First Republic Bank's 24-hour ATM," Esposito jumped in, looking gleeful. "Which is just down the street from the Waldorf Astoria."

"And get this," Ryan added. "He made a withdrawal last night at 10:30."

So that placed him at the crime scene. "Did we find that money on him?"

Two heads swiveled simultaneously. "Nope."

"Lanie said he wasn't drunk, but he was well on his way there. I thought maybe he was going to the bar to drink and forget his problems, but if he was taking out money…"

"Maybe he was going for another reason?" Ryan supplied. "I'm glad you mentioned that, because Javi here found something else that's quite interesting."

"Oh?" Kate lifted an eyebrow, taking the folder Esposito handed her.

"So you know I was checking Zabel's MetroCard to see where he was going, and wouldn't you know it, twice a month, I tracked him leaving either home or work and making his way to either Grand Central or Lexington and 53rd. Each time, he got on at 51st just after 2 A.M. and made his way home."

"So we've confirmed he was going to the Waldorf regularly. Good." Now they just had to find out why. Maybe it was time to talk to hotel staff.

Espo nodded. "There's more. Leo the bellboy? Mister 'I was just coming in for my shift'? Got on at 51st at just after 2 A.M. nearly every time, too. He and Zabel swiped within seconds of each other. Except last night, when he swiped his card at around 12:30."

Well, she certainly understood what had put the self-satisfied smirks on their faces. She was already feeling the bubbling excitement of getting somewhere on this case. "That's right in our TOD window. Now, how much do you want to bet he lied about knowing the victim?"

Both detectives nodded, high fiving in a display of celebration.

"Bring him in."


	3. Chapter 3

"You have a suspect already? Why Captain Beckett, that is impressive."

He had known he had it bad the first time Kate Beckett's derisive snort had sent a zing down his spine. Years later, that thrill hadn't diminished, even over the phone and separated by close to two thousand miles.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Castle. We're just bringing him in to ask some more questions."

"Of the suspect variety," he sing-songed. "Was it my suggestion that did it?"

His wife clucked her tongue. "Not this time, champ. This one was all Ryan."

Rick hmphed, wedging the phone between his ear and his shoulder to free his hands to pack his suitcase.

"We'll work on your phone consulting success rate, Castle, don't worry," she teased. "Any thoughts on what our victim was doing with all the money he was taking out of his account?"

"Withdrawing money, meeting at a hotel," he mused. "It seems to almost write itself."

"You think he's was paying somebody for sex?" Kate interrupted. "How would the bellboy fit?"

"An old boyfriend of the wife's out to defend her honor. He saw his old flame's husband stepping out on her and wanted to get even for her sake."

"Ah, but they left the Waldorf together every two weeks for months. Why wait to kill him?"

"Building his trust. Lulling him into a false sense of security."

Kate hummed. "Maybe. Shooting Zabel and leaving the body where he works is bold, though."

Tossing a shirt into his suitcase, Castle dropped onto the only open spot on the bed. "But it's great for misdirection. Nobody would expect that of him."

"Hmm. Interesting thought, Mr. Castle."

His lips lifted. "I have those from time to time, you know."

Kate's voice softened, sending his heart knocking against the wall of his chest. After months of being together day in and day out, two weeks away from her felt a little bit like torture, reawakening some of the uneasiness he had been working for over a month to put to rest. "I know you do, Rick. And speaking of good ideas, did you get the pastries yet?"

He covered a chuckle with his hand. Leading with the pastries this morning had been a good idea. "Not yet. I went straight to the signing after we got off the phone, and then came back here to pack."

"Oh." Yeah, she'd had her heart set on those treats.

Smothering a smile, he added, "But I'm going to stop in and get them on the way to the airport. Don't worry, Beckett, you'll get your danishes."

His wife huffed in his ear. "Damn right I'll get my danishes. This kid of yours is making me so hungry, I think I've earned them."

"Always my baby when it's frustrating, huh?"

"Like father, like son or daughter," she quipped, murmuring something he couldn't quite make out. She returned a beat later, apologetic. "I gotta go. Kinsler's here. Let me know when you're at your gate?"

"I will. You want a picture of the box when I pick up the pastries, too?"

His wife laughed. "That'd be nice. Okay, bye. Love you."

"Love you, too. Bye," Castle echoed, waiting for her to end the call before putting his phone aside and resuming his packing.

* * *

While his cheeks were no longer green, Leo Kinsler looked far less amenable to talking with them than he had earlier that morning. When Ryan had spoken to him last, his body language had been open and pleasant, now the protective cross of Leo's arms over his chest and the annoyed twist of his lips told the detective it wasn't going to be a fun conversation.

"Thanks for coming in, Leo. We're sorry to pull you away from work."

The other man flopped back in his seat. "Not like I really had a choice. You showed up in the middle of my shift and made it look like you were arresting me in front of guests. I'll be lucky to keep my job."

Looking over at his partner, Ryan leaned forward. "We'll make sure your supervisor knows you were cooperating with our investigation and shouldn't be penalized for leaving."

Espo nodded in agreement. "And the faster we cut through this, the faster you get back to taking twenties from rich old ladies who don't wanna ruin their manicures."

Kinsler shifted in his seat, some of the defensiveness leaving his posture. "All right, what do you want to know?"

"Why don't you start by telling us why you lied about knowing the victim?" Espo answered, the challenge sharp in his words.

Their suspect blinked, his mouth falling open. He recovered his composure a second later, taking a deep breath. "I didn't lie. I don't know the guy."

Ryan cocked his head, tapping the folder with their matching transit logs for emphasis. "Wanna try again? We have evidence that twice a month you've been taking long, late night walks with Aram Zabel from the hotel to the subway."

"Lots of people in New York ride the subway, even late at night," Kinsler hedged. "It doesn't mean I know that one dude."

"It does when you, by your own admission, had no business being near work last night, and yet you swiped your MetroCard to come home right smack in the middle of our murder window."

Esposito jumped in, tag teaming the questioning. "It also does when we find you've been taking out money on the same days as our victim. So tell us, Leo, what were the two of you up to? Did he screw you, take your cut of some deal, and that's why you killed him?"

"No. That's, no. Look, I didn't kill anyone. I left because I had to get some shut-eye to work my shift."

The detectives latched onto that, sharing a look before Kevin asked, "Left what, Leo?"

Their suspect's dark head dropped as his fingers scraped through his hair. "We play this card game, okay? Twice a month, after hours, we play this card game that some of the guys working in the kitchen said is from their home country."

Nodding, Ryan made notes. "What's the name of the game?"

"Batak? Aram started coming a few months ago. He knew Irfan from like, elementary school, and they decided he needed to start playing."

Well, that put the victim at the hotel. And explained the cash withdrawals and why they started so suddenly.

"The thing with the way they play Batak is, it's big money if you win. If you lose, you're hosed."

"And let me guess," Esposito began, skepticism etched on his cheeks. "Zabel lost big."

Kinsler nodded. "Not every time, but often enough that it hurt."

"He lose to you?" Ryan asked, turning it around again.

To his surprise, Kinsler snorted. "Me? Not a chance. I suck at that game. I asked Aram for pointers for how not to lose _my_ shirt."

Ryan shared a look with his partner. "Which is when you started walking together?"

The other man nodded. "Yeah. He went out of his way, taking the 4 with me for a bit. That's how _nice_ a guy he was. And I didn't kill him. You gotta believe me. I _puked_ when I saw the body. If I'd killed him, why would I do that?"

Though he had a point, many a killer had feigned disgust and illness upon "discovering" the body.

"Puke or not, that doesn't rule you out as my killer."

"Look, detectives. Aram was still kicking when I left. I played my final hand, lost the last of my money, got up and left to come home."

"Why'd you leave the game early?" Espo asked, lifting his eyebrows at Kinsler's snort.

"I pulled the 6:45 shift. It sucks on a normal day, sucks even more if I'm getting all of two hours of sleep."

Ryan shared a look with his partner.

"So answer this: is there anyone you can think of who would want to kill Zabel? Anyone with a beef over losing to him?"

Kinsler's brow furrowed. "No, nobody I can think of," he paused, only to slap his hand on the table. "But there was this dude G. Aram lost pretty big to him a while back, but gave him an IOU. Maybe he couldn't pay it?"

Esposito made a note of that. "You think this G would hurt him for it?"

Leo shook his head. "I don't know. I mean the guy's huge and kinda scary-looking, and it was a lot of money, so I could see him being pissed."

Both detectives nodded, willing to go along with Kinsler for the time being.

"Plus," the young man added, "he was there last night, too."

* * *

Beckett met her detectives outside Interrogation, lifting an eyebrow toward the man giving his statement at the table. "Do you believe him?"

Both men nodded. "He was covering his ass before, not wanting his supervisor to know about the game being played under his nose."

From what she had observed of Kinsler, she was inclined to agree. "In that case, cut him loose once he's done giving us that information, then get on finding this Mr. G."

They nodded again. "He said the guys in the kitchen are the ones in charge of inviting players to the game. We'll head over there and talk to them."

"Good," she praised, lifting her buzzing phone out of her pocket to find her husband's ridiculous contact picture staring back at her. "I need to take this, but keep me in the loop?"

"We'll knock on your door before we leave for the hotel."

"Thanks." She stepped away, lifting her phone to her ear. "Hey, Castle. Are you at the airport?"

He had to be. She could hear the bustle of passengers and airline announcements from his end of the call, though she couldn't hear him. Had he pocket dialed her?

"Castle?" she tried again, hoping to catch his attention if he happened to be holding his phone in his hand.

"Sorry, I'm here. Just juggling. I am at the airport, to answer your question."

"With my pastries?" she teased, slipping into her office, nudging the door shut with her shoulder.

"With your pastries. You know, Kate, I'm beginning to think you're more excited to see these muffins than you are to see me."

Laughter spilled from her lips. "Not even close, babe. Not even close. How long until you board?"

Again, she heard background noise instead of her husband's response.

"Well, that's the other part I was calling about," he said finally. "We've been delayed an hour and a half."

"Delayed? Why?"

Castle's sigh did nothing to make her feel better. "Weather. It was icy this morning, which they didn't expect apparently, so they've been behind all day. And they're monitoring a snow storm that's moving in."

Her heart sank, taking her body into her chair with it. "So there's a chance–"

"They haven't canceled anything yet. It's all just been pushed back."

Well, that wasn't terrible.

"Okay," she exhaled, leaning back in her seat. Her hand fell to her lap, slipping over her sweater to calm the anxious flutter in her belly. He would still make it home tonight and be here for her appointment tomorrow. It would be fine. "Just keep me in the loop."

"I will," he promised. "How's the case going? Was my bellboy avenging angel theory right?"

"Not even close," she said, releasing a breath. "They were there playing a card game. Supposedly our victim was giving him pointers on how to play better."

Her husband grumbled. "That's so boring."

"How is that boring?" Kate laughed, splaying her fingers wide. "A Turkish card game possibly gone wrong? I thought you'd be all over that."

"Well, you didn't say the gone wrong part. Who'd he screw over?"

"Kinsler pointed us in another player's direction. Hopefully, you'll be here to see if it pans out."

"Hopefully. Though we could always video call again if I'm still sitting here when you bring the next guy in."

"Hopefully you'll be sitting on a plane when we bring the next guy in," she murmured, opening her email and grimacing at the follow-up request for last month's closure numbers. "Hey, I gotta go for a bit. Call me when you know more?"

"I will. I'll be on my computer in a few, too. Expect bothering."

Her smile stretched a little wider. "As always," she teased, hanging up before he could feign offense.

* * *

"We're stuck."

Somehow she should have expected that. The rest of her day had gone just that well, this was really icing on the cake.

Her paperwork had nearly driven her insane, and to top it off, her closure report hadn't been what she'd hoped it would be. Then Ryan and Esposito had returned from the Waldorf empty-handed. Their Batak-playing kitchen staff hadn't been on shift at the time, and nobody had been feeling cooperative enough to tell them where to find the men. Javi had promised to go back once the shift change happened, but until then, they were basically spinning their wheels.

Then Lanie had called, spilling apologies and promises of a rain check for dinner. She said she had caught a case, but Kate couldn't help but think her friend was stalling, using work to avoid talking about whatever it was that was bothering her.

But she had sucked it up and agreed to reschedule. She had gone home, heated up leftover chicken and asparagus, dropped onto the couch, and answered Alexis's earlier text about getting her new boyfriend a Christmas gift with a yes, only to have her husband call moments later to say he was grounded for the night.

In Colorado.

"They canceled your flight?"

"And all others for the night. The storm moved in faster than they expected, they decided not to chance it."

"So you're just stuck?"

"I looked into renting a car, trying to get to another airport, but the roads are–"

"No," Kate interrupted, tugging a throw pillow to her chest. "Don't try to drive in it, Rick. I'll survive one more night. I want you to be safe and get back here in one piece."

The alternative was unacceptable.

"I know. And I'm not going to risk it. I'm staying put for the night, and I'll be on the first flight I can get in the morning."

"Good. You're not missing much anyway."

"Besides you."

"Besides me," she repeated, depositing her pillow against the arm of the couch and stretching onto her side. "The case is going nowhere right now."

"What happened? I thought you had a good lead with the other player."

Kate sighed. "The boys are trying to track him down, but they came up empty earlier. Here's hoping that he actually exists, and that he isn't in the wind."

"Ahh. Anything I can do from here?"

"Not unless you can find a card player we only know as 'G' from the Boulder airport."

Castle hummed in her ear, the low rumble releasing the catch in her chest, helping her breathe easier. "You could try Hayley?"

She clucked her tongue. "You know she's busy, Castle. I can't call her every time I want something done fast."

"I know. But I'm sure she could find a way to help if you need her to."

Her chin dropped. "I know. We'll see what the guys come up with tonight."

"Kay. What else is happening there?"

Kate looked around the loft, taking in the pile of boxes in one corner – decorations Martha had helped her drag out of storage last weekend – and the tiny bag with the glass elephant baby ornament Rick had given her for her birthday (one of the many gifts he had showered her with that day). They had a lot to prepare for, didn't they?

"Nothing. Just resting at home. Alexis is holed up studying until Friday – she says hi, by the way – and your mom has rehearsal all week, but they'll both be here to decorate for Christmas after that."

"Good."

Not for the first time, her fingers drifted down to her abdomen, tracing abstract patterns along the line of her waistband.

Her stomach flipped once again, startling her fingers into stillness. That… all day long it had felt like hunger, maybe gas, but that was...

"Castle?" she called, cutting off his running commentary of the other people in the Sky Club. "Rick, I think the baby's moving."

Flattening her palm to her belly, she waited, hoping to feel it again. Hoping she wasn't imagining it or making it up.

Her husband sputtered. "What? When did, when did it start?"

Kate's laugh came out strangled. "Yesterday? This morning? I think it really started this morning when you told me about the pastries. I thought I was just _hungry_. But I've eaten and it's happening again."

"Wow," he breathed. "Wow. I wish I–"

"Me too," she cut him off, feeling the prick of emotion behind her eyes. He wouldn't be able to feel anything – hell, she couldn't feel it from the outside yet – but he would be _here_. "This is… weird."

Castle laughed, clearing his throat. "I've heard that. Quickening, that's what the books call it, right?"

"Yeah. I should've… I should've put two and two together." She paused, swiping her thumb under her navel to see if she would be able to feel more, but the movement seemed to have ceased for the time being.

"We'll see it tomorrow on the monitor. Hopefully."

Exhaling an agreement, she held the phone tighter, letting Castle's chatter calm the riot of her thoughts.

She'd felt their baby move.


	4. Chapter 4

Striding into the precinct the next morning, Kate couldn't keep the hope from stirring in her chest. She had woken to a text from Ryan, stating that though it had been a fight, they had gotten a name for the mysterious G (but not a location) out of the guys in the kitchen, and they were running Erik Gurgen to make sure they knew what they were getting themselves into before they brought him in for questioning.

With any luck, they would have a _viable_ suspect by the time she knocked off for the day. And if she was extremely lucky, her husband would manage to make it back home by then as well.

Imagine her surprise when said husband's voice echoed through the bullpen.

"Castle? It's the middle of the night out there. What are you doing up?"

Lifting an eyebrow, she stepped beside Ryan's computer.

Castle smiled, though it was more than a little bit sheepish. "Wanted a jump on getting a flight, but they don't open for another hour. Then I had an idea about your case, but I knew you were on your way in so I called the guys instead."

"Uh huh. So what was your breakthrough?"

"Not really a breakthrough, just a suggestion. Though Ryan told me they had it covered already."

"What was your suggestion?" she prompted, leaning her hip on the desk.

"To check Sip Sak for your mystery player. It's a tight-knit community, so they could know him."

That was… a surprisingly good idea. Even though they'd already gotten a hit, it was a good thought. "Thanks, Castle."

He preened. "Always happy to offer my insights. But for the record I think a gambling debt as a motive for murder is super boring."

"I know you do. Guess we'll just have to see."

"Unis are picking him up as we speak," Ryan offered.

"Oh, can I watch the interrogation? Just get me set up on the computer in observation? Or! Or, or, or, you could prop the phone on the table and let me watch up close."

Beckett rolled her eyes. "You can watch from observation with me. Assuming it won't keep you from getting on a plane."

"Of course not."

Her lips lifted. "Good. Why don't you rest while we wait? We'll have to call you back anyway."

Castle and Ryan both opened their mouths, but said nothing.

Her eyes narrowed at their hesitation. "Unless you girls want to continue to gossip."

"Well," Ryan started. "I did kinda wanna pick Castle's brain about Christmas for the kids."

Her smile softened. Next year that would be her. "Have at it. I'll be in my office until Gurgen gets here."

Castle lifted a hand to wave as she walked away.

* * *

"It's not him," Castle announced as soon as he got a look at their latest suspect. The resolution wasn't the best, and he was at a disadvantage distance-wise, too, but he could tell. Even through the two-way glass, he could tell.

Beside him – sort of – his wife scoffed. "What do you base that on, Castle?"

"Look at him, Beckett. He's shaking."

"Because he knows he got caught."

"Or because he didn't do it." He couldn't see her, but he knew she was shifting on the desk, squaring her jaw to avoid telling him to shut his mouth. This was their only lead; she didn't want him poking holes in their theory before they even talked to the guy.

But he was totally right. She had to know that.

"I admit he looks nervous. But he had motive and opportunity."

"It just seems so easy," he sighed, studying Gurgen again.

The man certainly looked imposing with his shiny bald head and utilitarian blue work shirt. He dwarfed both Ryan and Espo, taking up almost the entire side of the table with his massive shoulders and barrel chest. But he hadn't stopped fidgeting since he was led into the room, looking around with eyes so wide, he resembled a terrified Chihuahua instead of the attack dog his appearance made him out to be.

After a few minutes, Ryan got things started. "Mr. Gurgen, do you know why we brought you in today?"

"The officers said it was about Ari?"

The detectives nodded. "Aram Zabel was found murdered yesterday morning, and we think you can tell us a little bit about that."

That seemed to still Gurgen. Castle watched him swallow hard.

"You think I had something to do with it?"

Instead of giving him an answer, Esposito pushed ahead. "Why don't you tell us about Aram's debt?"

"What debt?"

They scoffed in unison. "Leo Kinsler said he lost large to you and then couldn't pay it."

Gurgen blinked, confusion marring his face before he laughed. "That? That was nothing. Yeah, I was mad at first, but Ari and I worked it out."

If he had been in the precinct, Castle would've turned to his wife, the gloat ready on his lips.

"By shooting him?" Esposito asked, trying to rattle the big man.

"What? No! No, never. Yeah, he owed me money, but he came to my mom's house and fixed a bunch of stuff. We called it even!"

Rick hummed. "Beckett…"

"You believe him?" she asked, skepticism heavy in her voice.

The boys echoed the sentiment, asking if Gurgen really expected them to believe that.

"Look, I know I'm not exactly cuddly looking, but I would never kill anyone! Especially not Ari. He was great. He could fix damn near anything. He weatherproofed the windows, he re-plumbed two bathrooms. He even put snow tires on her car. Then offered to be the one to drive her places if I couldn't because she's eighty-five. He was a _good_ guy. So what if he had some trouble paying me back one time?"

"Aha," Rick crowed, picturing his wife rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, we'll see," Kate muttered. "I'm not sure I buy that Zabel was such a saint."

Castle shifted, checking his watch to make sure he wasn't missing his chance to get in line. He had ten minutes. "Yeah, I have to admit the fan club thing is a little weird. But maybe the little things aren't bad enough to complain about."

She sighed. "I know. But as terrible as it sounds, I'd like to find someone who hated his guts."

Castle chuckled. He knew what she meant, but it was still a little bit funny. "Because then you'd have someone to arrest."

"Yeah," she muttered, frustration roughening her voice. "I just hate the thought of his wife and kids not knowing _why_ he died."

"I know, Kate." It was all he could offer her, especially separated by as many miles as they were. "Mr. G will give you something. Any minute now."

His watch beeped, signaling it was time for him to gather his things and make his way back to the information desk.

Kate heard the alarm, too, murmuring for him to go when he said nothing about it. "Get your flight home, Rick. I'll let you know if we get anything out of Gurgen while you're in line."

"Kay. And let me know if there's anything I can do to help – brainstorming or otherwise – while I wait."

"I will."

"Okay," he agreed, getting to his feet and packing the majority of his things while Ryan and Esposito pressed Gurgen again, harder this time. Just as his finger hovered over the button to end the call he heard the man say,

"Well, there was one weird thing."

Bingo.

Smothering his triumphant smile, Rick said goodbye to his wife and pocketed his phone.

* * *

There was one weird thing? Of course there was. This entire case was a roundabout of slightly weird things that ended up having perfectly normal explanations. It was annoying as hell.

"Okay, Mr. Gurgen," Kevin Ryan said, his voice a mask of pleasant indulgence. "What was weird?"

The behemoth across the table from them shifted, leaning in closer. "So the money he owed me, right? I wasn't going to ask where it went or why he couldn't give it back, but when he left my mom's that day, he said he had a meeting with a lawyer or something. So I figured that was where my money had gone, you know?"

Sharing a look with his partner, Ryan considered his next question.

"Did he tell you this lawyer's name? What type of lawyer he was? Why he would be meeting with him?"

Gurgen shook his head. "Just that he needed to go because his lawyer was waiting for him."

Espo jumped on that line of questioning. "Did he catch a bus? A train? Did he drive to your mom's house?"

"He drove. He had a whole bunch of supplies, so he drove."

"And which day was this?" Ryan asked, pen ready to get the day and general time on paper so they could have Vikram check Zabel's MetroCard once again, just to make sure he hadn't dropped his car somewhere. "How did he seem when he left? Was he dreading the meeting?"

Gurgen shook his head. "Two weeks ago. And no, he was excited about it. Happy. He was really grateful we'd settled up the way we had."

"What about two nights ago?" Esposito jumped back in, tapping the table. "Did he seem agitated? Like anything was bothering him. Anything at all?"

Again, Erik Gurgen's head swiveled on his neck. "No, it was a friendly game. He wasn't betting large, but he wasn't holding back either. It was just normal. All of it seemed normal to me."

The man slumped, locking his fingers in front of him. "I just can't believe he's dead."

Half an hour later, Ryan and Esposito stepped out to join Beckett in Observation. Their boss was perched on the desk, her phone clasped between both hands, lip between her teeth.

"What do you think, boss? He telling the truth?"

Beckett exhaled, giving the device in her grip a final glance before looking up. "Yeah. My gut says it wasn't him. I want to know more about this lawyer Zabel was meeting, but I'd say Mr. Gurgen had nothing to do with the murder."

"We'll get on finding the lawyer, but without any idea what kind of practice it is, it could take some time."

Beckett nodded. "It could take some time, I know." She stood, swiping her palm on her pant leg. "Start local, since Gurgen said he was driving, but look back over the MetroCard–"

"–records to see if he came into Manhattan," Ryan finished for her. "Had that same thought."

"Good." Beckett exhaled. "And I know you're cutting Gurgen loose, but remind him not to leave town."

Both detectives gave her a nod, but as Javi turned to leave, Kevin hung back.

"Beckett?" he murmured.

His boss looked up again, her lips downturned. "Yeah?"

"He'll make it back in time," he said, hoping he wasn't overstepping.

Though she didn't quite look convinced, Beckett smiled anyway. "Thanks, Ryan. He's working on getting a flight right now."

He nodded. "He'll do it."

Beckett nodded, playing along. "Yeah, he will."

* * *

"What do you mean there are no seats?"

Despite every effort to keep his voice level, Castle knew he had failed. Any other time shame would creep up his neck and darken his cheeks, allowing his manners (and a certain amount of charm) to emerge once more, but not this time. This time he was beside himself.

"I'm sorry sir–"

"You're telling me that in the thirty-five minutes I've been standing in line, after getting here right as you opened, every single flight has been booked? I was told yesterday when my flight was canceled that I would be able to rebook and get on a flight in the morning. It is the morning. I am not able to get on a flight."

The mousy brunette behind the desk offered him a smile, though there was no mistaking the tightness around her eyes, the insincerity behind the gesture; he had no doubt it wouldn't be the last one he received, either.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Castle. I understand you want to get home, but–"

"But I spent the night in the airport for nothing?" he supplied, trying desperately not to take it out on her. She wasn't responsible for the bad instructions he'd received the night before, or the fact that he was scrambling for a solution now. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm trying to get home before midnight tonight. My wife is pregnant–"

"Congratulations."

"Thank you." He could at least say that was genuine. "We're very excited. But the thing is, Candace, I need to be home today because she has an extremely important appointment this afternoon. So is there _anything_ you can do to help me get on a flight that will get me there in time?"

Candace hesitated, her smile faltering for just a moment.

"Please," he tried again. "I don't know what it'll take – more money, a few signed books, a character named after your grandmother, you name it – but I need to be home for this appointment."

* * *

Almost as soon as she'd sat down at her desk, the delicate flutters in her belly had begun again. It seemed this baby found paperwork about as interesting as its father did, which was a strange comfort given that Castle hadn't yet checked in to tell her what was going on with his flight.

It was also a distraction, because instead of focusing on the report in front of her, her hand kept drifting down to rub the place the movement seemed to be originating from at that moment.

"You're practicing, huh?" she murmured, lifting her eyes, making sure no one was passing her open door to hear her talking to her stomach. "So you can wave to us this afternoon?"

That was assuming Castle would be there to be waved to; if he didn't make it back in time, she wasn't sure how the afternoon would go. The amnio had been scheduled for weeks, and as comforting as she found Dr. Kowalewski to be, the thought of not having her husband there to whisper reassurance into her hair was enough to have apprehension coiling in her chest. Yes, she could call someone else to drive her home and stay with her afterward, but that would mean disrupting her father's day, or Lanie's, or Martha's, and it wouldn't change the fact that Rick wouldn't be there to find out whether they were having a boy or a girl from the pre-procedure ultrasound.

"We'll give him a little longer," she murmured, pressing her fingertips to her stomach. "Then we'll decide what to do."

"About what?" Esposito asked, stepping into her office without bothering to knock. "Sorry," he added, though he didn't seem to be repentant in the least. In fact, he seemed to brim with energy.

"Ah, nothing. Just… doctor's appointment. Don't worry about it. What's up?"

He opened his mouth, but apparently thought better of letting whatever his first thought was escape. "Went back through Zabel's personal effects to see if he had anything on him to ID the lawyer."

"Uh huh," Beckett leaned her forearms on her desk. "Did you find anything?"

"Funny you ask that. Because buried in a pocket that really wasn't a pocket, I found this."

Her eyebrows jumped as he stepped forward and slapped an evidence bag with a worn business card face down onto the center of her desk. Kate lifted it with one hand, turning it over.

"Randall Snow, Estate Planning and Trust Attorney," she read, turning a thoughtful look on her detective.

Javi bobbed on his feet, looking pleased with himself. "Uh huh. Aram was making interesting use of his winnings, wouldn't you say?"

Kate nodded, welcoming the familiar flicker of excitement that came from _getting_ somewhere on a case. "Almost like he was preparing for something. Like his own murder, maybe?"

Espo grinned. "Could be. So what do you think, boss? Want to ditch the paperwork for a little while and pay Randall Snow a little visit?"

The paperwork and her worries.

Beckett shut the file, getting to her feet. "Let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

There was always something thrilling about striding into a room with her badge at the ready. When she'd first been promoted to detective, it was a point of pride, a symbol of her own accomplishments, but over time it had become both powerful and intimidating to have the mantle for justice on her shoulders. The first time she flashed her captain's badge had been the same, and when she stepped into Randall Snow's office with Ryan and Esposito at her heels, it was no different. Snow's assistant's eyes widened, but he didn't falter as he greeted them.

"Mr. Snow is in a meeting right now. May I ask what this is about?"

"We just have a few questions to ask him. About one of your clients."

The young man's cheeks darkened, and Beckett watched him slip a hand through his (over-gelled) chestnut hair while he gathered his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, but we can't give out information about our clients without their consent. Confidentiality and privacy are things we take seriously here."

Beside her, the boys sighed. If they had a nickel for every time they had heard that.

"We understand…" Beckett started, trailing off to get Snow's admin's input.

"Jason," the kid supplied, offering her a tense smile.

"Jason." She nodded. "We understand, and we're not interested in anyone other than a man named Aram Zabel. We found your boss's card in his wallet, and we have a–"

"Wait, what happened? Did he do something wrong?"

Esposito stepped up. "He's dead, Jason."

Jason paled. "You're kidding me?"

Beckett glanced over at the boys. Well, that was confirmation that they were in the right spot, at least.

"Unfortunately not," Espo replied, his voice level.

"He was just in here last week!" The kid shook his head.

"And that was your last meeting with him?" Off Jason's nod, Beckett continued, "How did it go? Did he seem upset or in any way fearful?"

Jason hesitated.

"You don't have to tell us anything about why he was here, Jason," she promised. "We just want to know about his demeanor. Did he seem stressed? Agitated at all? Nervous?"

The young man shook his head. "No, no. He was relaxed. He came in a little late, later than he had been the last two times, but he apologized for it. Then he went to talk to Randall. He said goodbye when they finished their meeting, and he left."

The boys jotted that down, glancing at each other before Ryan looked back at Jason. "Nothing else?"

Jason's head rocked again. "No, nothing I can remember."

Beckett nodded. "Thank you. When will Mr. Snow be available?"

Whatever relief Jason may have been feeling seemed to evaporate quickly. "Captain, Mr. Snow really doesn't have time to–"

"I'm afraid he'll have to make time. We have a killer to catch, and it really can't wait for next week or two weeks from now when he's free." She had to resist the urge to make air quotes with her fingers at the word; at this point she was sure Randall Snow was sitting in his office alone, having a laugh at their expense. "Now, is he with a client at the moment, or do I have to have these guys check the fire escape?"

Jason's look said it all.

"Go on," she murmured to Ryan and Esposito, pinning the admin to the spot with a hard glare.

Ten minutes later her detectives returned – through the front door – with a rather sheepish, not to mention winded, Randall Snow.

"Mr. Snow," Beckett greeted, standing taller. The man was almost wider than he was tall, barely clearing her collarbone, and she wasn't above using her height to her advantage. "Thanks for taking the time to meet with us. Apologies for interrupting your workout, though."

Randall jerked his arm away from Esposito, smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt. "I don't know what this is about, but I'm very busy. I was on my way to another client meeting."

"I'm sure my detectives have already told you what this is about, and you no doubt heard from your office, but one of your clients – Aram Zabel – is dead. What can you tell us about your business with him? Your interactions?"

"Look, I had nothing to do with that."

Beckett cocked her head, studying the man in front of her with a critical eye. "Then why'd you run?"

Snow rocked from side to side, glancing back at Jason. "I thought you were another type of cop."

Her eyebrows jumped toward her hairline. "Another type of cop?"

"Because homicide's not your top concern?" Esposito added on a scoff. "Bro, what are you into?"

Of course, Snow clammed up, straightening his shoulders and staring defiantly ahead.

The detectives sighed, sharing a long look with Beckett.

She nodded. "Mr. Snow, we're not here to talk about anything other than your client's murder. But if you'd rather not answer our questions here, you can accompany us down to the station and we'll talk there."

Snow balked at that, lifting his hands in front of him. "Wait, wait okay. Okay, fine. Let's talk."

Satisfied, Beckett stepped back, gesturing for him to lead them into his office. As she followed, she tapped out a text to Castle to tell him where they were and what they'd found, asking if he wanted her to call him and let him sit in on the discussion. It wasn't entirely surprising when he didn't respond, but it didn't stop the twinge of disappointment from rolling through her.

He would be home in a few hours and they would get back to what passed for normal for them.

"Okay," she said, jumping right to it. "Mr. Zabel was coming to you, can you tell us why?"

Snow dropped into his chair. "I'm an estate attorney, Captain, he wanted my assistance with his estate."

Kate rolled her eyes. Helpful.

"Care to elaborate?"

The answer was clearly a no, but Snow heaved a grudging sigh and nodded. "I've been helping him prepare his will and understand his financial options should something happen."

"That's a lot of preparation for a healthy man with a relatively stable job. Did anything stand out about the request?"

Randall Snow lifted a shoulder. "He came to me and said he just wanted to be prepared. Proactive."

"He wasn't nervous for his safety? He didn't say anything about anyone threatening to harm him? He just wanted to take care of things?"

"As far as I know."

The man knew more, she was sure of it. "And the work you were doing with him? What options did you provide him?"

"I really shouldn't discuss the arrangements–"

Annoyance flared in her chest. "Your client is deceased, Mr. Snow, and a refusal to provide us with information that may lead us to his killer could be considered obstruction. Now, I don't care that you're obviously taking advantage of your clients by overcharging them for your no doubt lackluster services," she paused, watching the color drain from Snow's cheeks. Bingo. "I just want to catch this man's killer."

"It was a standard package. We discussed his options the first time we met, I drew up his will the next time, and the last time I saw him, he asked me for information about putting some money into trust for his children. He seemed excited, said he would be in touch when he got the packet, and he left. That was it."

"Or," Esposito mused beside her. "Maybe he found out you were taking him for a ride. Maybe you panicked and sought him out to explain, or to just make sure he would stay quiet. Permanently."

Snow's head thrashed. "No. No, no. I did _not_ kill him! He had no idea I was asking an extra hundred and fifty every time we met. He had _no_ idea. Look, when was the murder? When did he die?"

"Two nights ago. Just after midnight."

"Ah! I was with my girlfriend in Atlantic City until last night. Still have the Harrah's receipt – a few of them – in my wallet to prove it."

Beckett blinked, waiting for him to do exactly that.

"What?" he asked after a moment. "Oh! You want to see it."

"Yes, Mr. Snow, we want to see the receipts you claim can prove your alibi. That's usually how this works."

Finally, he seemed all too happy to oblige.

* * *

"We still have nothing?" Castle asked, his voice tinny and distant over the speakerphone in her hand. "After all that?"

Kate sighed, swiping her fingertips over her forehead. She was in desperate need of coffee. So desperate, even a hit of decaf would be better than nothing. "Thanks for reminding me, Castle. We had forgotten in the twenty-seven and a half minutes since we left Snow's office that, yet again, we are nowhere."

"Sorry."

"No, you're fine. I'm just… frustrated. There's something we're missing. This wasn't random, this wasn't wrong place, wrong time. It was close range in a quiet alley. There were no defensive wounds. He still had his money – what little he hadn't gambled away – and apparently everyone freaking loved him."

"But why all the secrecy about everything?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, her brow furrowing as a thought, a tiny detail, tugged at the far edges of her brain. The boys scoffed, but she shook her head silently, stepping into the precinct behind them.

"I was just thinking about his motivation. He wasn't sick, we know, but he started making emergency preparations, wanting to make sure everyone was taken care of. The card game, working more, writing up a will…"

Yes, she remembered all of those details. That didn't explain–

"But nobody seemed to know anything about it," she mused. "He drew up a will and didn't tell his wife? He put money away for their kids without mentioning it?"

"Well, he might've been planning to tell her once the deal was done," Ryan offered, looking over his shoulder. "To keep from worrying her or just take the burden of dealing with it off of her."

"But now she likely has to execute a will she never even got to see," Castle mused. "Which has to be difficul–"

Beckett stopped short of the elevator as something clicked in her mind. "Wait, say that again."

"What? That it has to be difficult?"

"No," she denied, shaking her head. "A will she never got to _see_. But Snow said Zabel told him he would be in touch when the packet arrived. That was last week, and he didn't send the paperwork to Zabel's office. So it had to go to his house."

Castle picked up on her train of thought. "And since his wife is home more often, she would've likely been the one to get the mail and see the papers first."

"And he might not have left them much, but..."

"How much do you want to bet that Karen would get everything if her husband died?" Rick finished for her, his words coming fast and eager over the line. "Money is always a powerful motive."

"Ah," Esposito lifted a hand, stepping away from the elevator before the door alarm could scream at them. "Just one problem. You talked to the wife already, Beckett; she said she was home with her kids, and the neighbors we called corroborated that."

Beckett shook her head, swiping a hand through her hair. She had talked to Karen Zabel, and the woman had been everything a grieving widow should be, but she couldn't shake the feeling that _this_ really was the key. "They said they didn't recall seeing her car move. But nobody had eyes on the house all night."

"You should bring her in," Castle said, earning exasperated looks from both detectives. "It's the only thing that makes sense. She saw the will, saw the provisions he'd made – maybe he had more money than he'd let on and that pushed her over the edge."

Beckett nodded, curling her fingers around her phone. "Bring her in, I'll take care of the warrant."

The guys shared a look. "It'll take some time to get to their house," Ryan said, checking his watch. "Staten Island and back?"

"Then you better move to beat the lunch rush," she murmured, stepping around them and calling the elevator once again. She wrote out her warrant request while she waited for them to retreat.

After taking a moment to proofread the message, she turned back to her call. "It's got to be her, Castle."

"It is," Castle assured. "It is. You got it right, Kate."

Wishing the assurance was coming from beside her, not thousands of miles away, she stepped into the car and slumped back against the elevator wall.

"What about you? Are you–"

"Making progress."

Her chin lowered. "That sounds a lot like what you say when you're avoiding telling me things aren't going well."

"I'm on standby, and it's looking good that I'll get on the flight. I will be home today."

Just likely not in time for her appointment, she deduced. Emotion tickled her throat, wetting her eyes with traitorous tears.

"Good," she breathed, swallowing her disappointment back. Having him home, even if he was late, was better than him being stranded in Colorado for another night.

Even if he missed the amnio, she could take the ultrasound photo home with her in an envelope for the two of them to look later. They could find out together from the comfort of their couch.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise." he added, sensing her displeasure even though he couldn't see her.

"Rick, there's nothing to make up to me," she chided, stepping off the lift when the doors opened to the fourth floor. "You couldn't help this. Not unless you planned to sleep in an airport and fly standby to avoid a doctor's appointment."

"Never."

"Then don't apologize," Beckett ordered, rounding the corner to find Lanie Parish waiting at her office door with a travel carton of drinks and a plastic bag of what looked like Korean Barbecue takeout containers. "Just get on a plane when you can and get here."

"I will. And I should probably go make sure everything is still on track."

"Okay. Lanie's here with lunch. Did you put her up to this?"

Her husband mock gasped. "Would I do that?"

"Yes."

Rick chuckled. "Yeah, you're totally right. But I didn't this time. Have a good lunch."

"Thanks."Slipping her phone into her pocket, Kate gave her friend a smile. "Hey, Lanie. What brings you up this way?"

The ME offered her a smile of her own, more contrite than pleased, though. "I wanted to apologize for last night, blowing you off for dinner, and see if maybe we could talk?"

Eager, her head bobbed. "Of course. You gonna tell me what's bothering you?"

Lanie stepped into the office ahead of her, moving to the far cushion of the couch and settling the bag of takeout on the center cushion. Beckett watched her normally steady hands falter as she doled out the food, but said nothing. Lanie was just as stubborn as she was; pushing her to talk would only cause her to dig her heels in harder.

"My mom's sick, Kate," Lanie spoke finally, once they were settled with their food, taking large bites to compensate for their hunger.

Dropping her fork, Beckett reached for her friend's hand. "What? What's going on?"

Lanie took a slow breath. "She has diabetes, type 2. She was diagnosed almost nine years ago, and we've been able to keep it under control with medication, diet, exercise, but…"

"But that's not working anymore," she supplied, squeezing Lanie's fingers in support.

Her friend nodded. "It's getting harder to manage and her doctors aren't sure why. They're starting to worry about her kidneys, it's gotten that bad."

Kate simply nodded, letting Lanie go at her own pace.

"If it gets worse," she continued, her voice straining against the lump in her throat. "If it gets worse, I'll need to be there with them. Which would mean leaving New York, and my job, and everyone here, and–"

Kate scooted closer to her friend, putting her food aside and drawing her into a loose hug with her free hand. "Oh, Lane. I'm sorry. What can I do?"

Lanie shook her head. "Nothing. I just… don't know what to do. My dad insists that he'd be fine taking care of her on his own, but what happens when he's not able to do it anymore? When she needs more than he can do for her? And his health is okay for now, but..."

"What's the time frame?" she asked, smoothing a hand over her friend's shoulder. "When do you need to make your decision, any decision?"

"I don't know. I'm… I decided last night to take off early for Christmas, that way I'll be there in time for her next appointment. If we can get her levels to stabilize… but I'll know more after her next appointment."

It was hard to find a silver lining with something like this, but she had to try nonetheless. "Okay, we can work with that. You'll tell me as soon as you know anything?"

Her friend nodded, turning her face into Kate's shoulder. "Yeah, I will. I will."

"Good," she said, squeezing her. Lanie sighed, slumping a little harder into the hug. "I'd miss you. If you moved, I'd miss you."

"Me too," Lanie whispered, her voice thick once more. "You, the boys, the little ones."

Oh, that hurt. The thought that her best friend could be hundreds of miles away before she had this baby, after she had this baby.

"We would visit. All of us, we would visit. Castle and I would bring the baby, too."

"I know," Lanie murmured, "but…"

But it wouldn't be the same.

Kate squeezed her again. "We'll figure it out. If it comes to that, we'll figure it out. Taking care of your mom is more important."

"Thanks, girl."

God, after everything Lanie had done for her, ten minutes of comforting her over lunch was the least Kate could do. "Anytime. And I mean that. I know things are insane, but _anytime_."

"Okay," her friend agreed, sucking in a deep breath before straightening up and lifting her food carton once more. "Your turn. You walked off that elevator looking like you were a thousand miles away."

Well, she wasn't far off. Now it was Kate's turn to slump. "Castle's been stranded in Colorado because of the weather. And that would be okay any other time, but I have my eighteen-week appointment _and_ an amniocentesis this afternoon, and there is a very distinct possibility that he won't make it."

And yeah, she'd been nervous about the amnio before, but that uneasiness had spread like wildfire through her when Castle's plane had been delayed the second time. Yes, because of her age and everything her body had been through it would be good to know, to be able to prepare for any irregularities, but it was _terrifying_ all the same.

"I'll go with you," Lanie promised, breaking through her anxious thoughts. "If Castle doesn't make it back in time, I'll go with you and stay until he gets home."

Her friend shouldn't have to, not with the weight that was already on her shoulders, but the moment her mouth opened to argue, to decline the offer, Lanie cut her off. "It's not an offer, Kate Beckett, it's the plan. So don't bother fighting me."

Her stomach flipped, and she couldn't help but take that as an agreement from the tiny life within.

Kate nodded after a second. "Sure, all right. It's a plan."

Lanie smiled, patting her hand. "Good."

"Good," Kate echoed, glancing over as Vikram stepped up to her doorway. The analyst had a triumphant smile on his face and a folder in his hand and she waved him in, wiping her fingers on a napkin.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I've got something you're going to want to see."

Sharing a look with Lanie, she opened the folder Vikram handed her. Studying the contents, she felt her mouth drop open.

"Looks like we just got the proof we needed. Text Esposito and Ryan, tell them to hustle."


	6. Chapter 6

Just like the first time she had visited the 12th, Karen Zabel looked small and timid. Since Ryan had ushered her into the interrogation room, her shoulders had moved higher and higher while the rest of her torso curled inward. To any casual observer, she was every bit the terrified, mourning party wondering why she had been brought into the police station in the middle of a day.

It was a good act, but it wasn't going to fool Beckett. Not this time.

"Mrs. Zabel, thank you again for being cooperative with my detectives this afternoon," Beckett greeted, striding into Interrogation with the case file in her hand. "I'm sorry you had to arrange for a babysitter on short notice. Am I correct in assuming you've been advised of your rights in this situation?"

Karen Zabel straightened, her dark eyes flashing with something other than grief. She hid it quickly, ducking behind her hair, but Kate knew it had been there.

"Yes, I have been, but you've got it all wrong," she said, her words measured, controlled. "I told you everything I know about Ari, and I didn't kill him."

Beckett settled across from her, taking the time to open the folder and give the other woman just enough of a glimpse of the top page before resting her hands over it. "I don't think that's quite true, Karen."

Karen Zabel frowned, her eyes darting away from the captain's. Ah, another tell. Yesterday she could've hidden it behind her son's wriggling body, but without the baby there to deflect attention to, it was more than obvious that she was hiding something.

Kate tilted her head. "Because you see, we did some checking into you and the story you told me. You told me Aram called you at 8:30 and again around 11, correct?"

"I, yes as far as I remember. He always called around then."

"Yes, your phone records do suggest that's right. Only last night there was no eleven o'clock call."

Looking away once again, Karen pursed her lips. "I may have been wrong about the time. Some nights it's earlier, some nights it's later."

That was a fair defense; they had seen as much in the records they'd pulled. That said, there had also been something else in the records.

"But the call never comes from you. And it never pings off a cell tower in Manhattan. Why were you in Manhattan at 12:45, Mrs. Zabel?"

Karen shook her head. "That has to be a mistake, I wasn't in Manhattan the other night."

Beckett exhaled. "You were, and this camera confirms it." Turning the page, she revealed a photo of a car going through a red light. Karen Zabel could be seen at the wheel. "This is from the light at the end of the block from the Waldorf Astoria hotel, just a few minutes after your husband was killed."

The woman gaped, leaving Kate to continue, "Do you want to know what I think, Karen? I think you were bored. I think you decided that you were better off without Aram. He was gone so much, working so many hours, leaving you with your children… you might as well have been doing it on your own anyway."

Zabel scoffed. "That's ridiculous. That's absurd. I loved him. My husband worked _hard_ for our family. He was working two jobs – double shifts sometimes, too."

"No, he was going to one job and using that money to gamble after hours. The bank statements you left sitting out on your desk prove you knew about the withdrawals. You saw the money going out, you found out about the Batak game, and you were pissed. Until you got the mail last week. You saw Aram's will, the provisions he was making to put money away for the kids."

The other woman squirmed.

"And," Beckett began again, "knowing how much you and your children would be getting from his estate in the event of his death, you decided to take matters into your own hands. I think you put your children to bed, and I think you figured 'this is the perfect time, I'll be quick, nobody would ever look at me twice,' and you got in your car and drove into the city. I think you called your husband to find out where he was, and when he owned up to not being at work and told you to meet him at the service entrance to the Waldorf, you took out the gun we know you received from a distant, distant cousin in the mob, and you shot him."

"His estate? I'm his wife, I own half of everything he owns right now. I wouldn't need to kill him to get any of it. It's mine anyway."

"Not if he put the money into trust; then it would be untouchable until your children turn twenty-one."

Karen's dark head wobbled. "Captain, that's not– I don't know what you're talking about. All I know is that he kept taking money out of the account and barely putting any back."

"Then tell me the real story, Karen. You found out about the game, you found out about the money he was taking from your accounts, and you confronted him, didn't you?"

"No."

"No?" Beckett asked. "Why'd you follow him into the city then?"

"I had already figured out that he wasn't going to work late – nights like that, his clothes were never dirty, never grimy the way they were when he actually was on shift – and then I… I saw the withdrawals, and I thought…"

"You thought he was having an affair?"

The other woman's head bobbed, her fingers rubbing together. "So I decided to find out for myself."

"Karen," Kate pressed, lifting her eyebrows. "He's not the one having the affair, you are. The car you were driving? We know it belongs to a man you used to work with, a man I would guess you've been sleeping with for a while, given how many times his car has been seen at your house over the last few months."

Karen's eyes flashed again in frustration, in anger at having her story picked apart. But she didn't lawyer up, she didn't ask for counsel to get her out of the mess she was in, so Beckett pushed ahead.

"Look, I know you love your children, and you don't want to leave them, so tell me what happened. You're having an affair; you want your husband out of the way but–"

"No. No. The... the affair just _happened_. Aram works so _much_ , I just... I needed someone. I am home all day with my children, always mom, never just me. But it wasn't supposed to go on this long, and I..." She dropped her head, her voice cracking. "I got the mail last week and I saw the envelope from the lawyer. I thought Ari had found out about Daniel. That he was going to divorce me, to serve me with papers and _leave_."

"And that made you angry," Beckett supplied, watching the woman's head bob in agreement. "So you grabbed the gun, the one you'd asked your cousin to get you a while back, because Aram worked so many long hours and you were home alone with the kids, but you weren't intending to use it."

The woman nodded again. "Yes."

"And then you asked your lover to stay with your children while you tracked your husband down. You didn't tell him what you were going to do, you just said you needed to run an errand. You called Aram when you got into the city, and he fessed up, told you to meet him in the alley."

Karen's stiff upper lip faltered. "He tried to explain, he said it was an investment, but I was just so angry. I didn't even think. And then he was on the ground, bleeding. I didn't... I didn't mean to kill him. I just didn't want him to leave me."

As she was sleeping with someone else. That made total sense.

"He wasn't filing for divorce, Karen," Beckett murmured. "If you had opened the envelope from Randall Snow, you would've seen the packet was your husband's will, as well as information about putting money into a trust fund for your children. It was about making sure you'd be taken care of if something happened to him."

Karen's face crumpled, her body turning in on itself.

"Oh god. What've I–"

Beckett stood. "I'll arrange for counsel to meet with you. In the meantime, I'll have someone come help you make arrangements for your children."

With a trembling hand pressed to her lips and her eyes clenched shut, Karen Zabel nodded.

Closing the case file, Kate left the room without another word.

The boys stepped out of Observation, looking solemn. They all hated cases like this, when an innocent person died because of miscommunication and assumptions, but this one seemed to have made a particular impact on everyone.

"Could one of you stay with her until her lawyer gets here? And get a phone in there so she can figure out childcare for her kids?"

Esposito nodded. "I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Javi." She exhaled, checking her watch and then her phone. Disappointment settled in her gut. Nothing from Castle. Maybe that meant he was in the air; maybe he just had nothing to report and hadn't wanted to upset her. "I'll make the call to the DA and start her paperwork, and then I need to head out."

They both nodded. "You heard anything from Castle?"

Pursing her lips, she shook her head. "He said he was flying standby anyway. Though, knowing my husband he's trying to brib–"

She stopped, narrowing her eyes at them. They were smirking. Why were they smirking?

Ryan's chin lifted, his smile widening into a full-blown grin. "Look behind you, boss."

Beckett twisted, clamping a hand over her mouth when mischievous sapphire eyes and a sly smile greeted her.

"Rick," she breathed, practically stumbling over her own feet in her haste to get to him. "You – I thought you were hours away!"

Her husband lifted a shoulder, pulling his hands from his pockets and stepping away from the wall to catch her hips as she neared.

"Tried to bribe someone to let me onto a flight," he explained, the tease melodious. Her cheeks lifted; it was so good to have him here to tug at her pigtail like that. "That didn't work. But she took pity on me and sent me to someone else. I was able to charter a plane to another airport and get on a direct flight from there."

Oh, Rick.

Breaking her own rules for PDA in the precinct, her arms wound around his neck and dragged him in, her lips landing on his for the first time in two weeks. Castle hummed his approval as his hands slipped up her back, cupping the wings of her shoulder blades to keep her from putting too great a distance between them when she pulled away.

"You made it, though," she murmured, sliding her thumb along his hairline. "Rick."

"Of course I made it." His nose brushed hers, the words quiet puffs against her lips. "I wouldn't miss this."

Instead of arguing semantics, arguing that the delays were out of his control and his best intentions were no match for the weather and major airlines, she let her forehead drop against his.

"I have a confession, though," he added a second later, forcing her to pull back to find his eyes. "I did give away the pastries when we were waiting last night. I'm sorry."

"Oh." Funny, she wasn't nearly as distressed as she would've been yesterday.

"But! I called the bakery and paid for them to ship more. They don't usually do that, but I explained what had happened, and they agreed to make an exception for me. The box should be here by the end of the week, assuming the weather cooperates. Does that make up for it?"

"It helps," she drawled, squeezing him again. "But only because I'm glad you're back."

His chuckle sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine, but she refrained from pulling him closer and mauling him in the middle of her workplace.

"What time do we need to leave?" he asked, swiping his thumbs along her back.

"Soon, I just need to make a call and–"

"Boss," Espo jumped in, lifting his eyebrows. "We got this. Go on. Better to get there early than be late, right?"

He was right, but that didn't mean she should leave her post just yet. She still had a woman in interrogation waiting for a lawyer, and actual paperwork to do to process her.

"Fifteen minutes," she compromised, extricating herself from Castle's embrace with the same reluctance she knew he felt. "Fifteen minutes and we'll go. I just want to close this one out for myself."

Rick nodded, his smile warm with understanding. "Kay. Lead the way. It was the wife, wasn't it?"

Her fingers caught his to give him a gentle tug forward. "It was. She found the information packet from the lawyer, but didn't stop to read it so she thought her husband was going to divorce her, and she panicked."

"Of course," Ryan added, falling in step behind them, "she was having an affair the whole time, so that's a little bit of wanting to have her cake and eat it too, if you ask me."

"Oh, now that is a twist. Interesting."

"More like tragic for poor Aram. He was just looking out for his family," she shot back, stepping into her office with Castle in tow. "Albeit gambling to increase his investments probably wasn't the smartest idea, but..."

Rick squeezed her hand. "No it wasn't, but I don't blame him. He just wanted to prepare."

"Yeah," she breathed. "Okay, let me finish this up, then we can go."

Castle nodded, releasing her fingers and settling into the chair he had claimed as his. "I'll be here."

* * *

Having the last appointment of the day had its advantages. Although Doctor Kowalewski wasn't quite ready for them when they arrived, as soon as Kate lowered the pen to the sign in sheet, her nurse Susan escorted them toward an exam room. Rick followed dutifully, studying the pie artwork on the walls when his wife stepped on the scale.

"How've you been?" Susan asked, smiling at them as she recorded the numbers from the digital display.

Castle answered first, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Anticipation made his smile wide, a little silly, and he saw his wife's lips lift in response.

"Can't complain, Susan."

Kate laughed beside him, stepping off the scale and slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Rick was stranded overnight in Colorado, so we're both just happy he made it back in time."

Rick slipped his fingers over Kate's, giving her knuckles a gentle squeeze. "Thrilled, even. How are you, Susan?"

The nurse's smile brightened. "Well, I'm glad you made it home in time. I've been just fine, too. Mostly been working, but it's been good. Made it easy to save up time to go home for Christmas."

"That sounds great. Where is home?"

"The mountains of North Carolina," Susan answered. Before he could reply she laughed. "The accent didn't give it away?"

Rick laughed too, releasing Kate's hand as she settled onto the examination table. "Maybe a little."

Susan winked. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Okay, Kate, how have you been feeling? Anything concerning that you want to discuss?"

His wife beamed, brushing her fingers over her stomach. "Not really a concern, but I felt movement. The baby, I mean. Little pops, sort of? It took me all day yesterday to realize what it was."

After an affectionate poke, Kate's hand flattened against the side of her bump. Rick smiled at the gesture; he had spent the duration of the cab ride with his hand on her belly, attempting to feel their child's movements for the first time, and his fingers curled into his palm to keep from touching her again in the middle of the doctor's office.

The nurse wrote that down, clapping her hands together when she finished. "That's fantastic. And perfect timing, too. We'll get you set up for an ultrasound so you can see the little one, and then we'll do the amnio if that's still the plan, okay?"

Castle watched Kate's shoulders lift with her deep breath, her smile faltering a bit. "Yeah, unless Dr. Kowalewski says otherwise, that's the plan. Better to be safe, right?"

"Right. Given everything, it is better to be safe. But, we're also optimistic everything will be just fine."

Glancing down at her belly, Kate nodded. They were both anxious over the possibilities, he knew, but he also knew how many times they had beaten the odds so far. They wouldn't ruin their streak now.

His wife's smile returned when his hand crept over to covers hers. "I still think she just wanted an excuse for me to wait on her hand and foot," he announced, watching her laugh and shake her head. "Which is silly because I'd do that anyway."

"Of course you would, Rick," Susan drawled. "Okay, honey, lie back and get comfortable. I'll grab everything and be right back with Dr. Kowalewski."

She smiled at them both on her way out.

Kate's hand flipped under his, her fingers curling tightly. He returned the pressure, waiting until she had reclined to tug the nearest chair close to the table and lower himself onto the cushion.

"Hey," Rick murmured, dropping a soft kiss on her mouth. "It's going to be fine, Kate. And even if something isn't perfect, we've got this. RHD here, remember?"

Her lips lifted under his. "I remember. It's just–"

"Nerve-wracking? Terrifying?"

"Yeah," she agreed, swiping her thumb over his knuckles. "And it didn't really hit me until today, now. Before I was so focused on you being home to make it to the appointment, but now..."

"It'll be okay," he assured, glancing up as Kate's OB/GYN tapped on the door and stepping inside.

"Kate, Rick, good to see you."

"Good to see you," they chorused, grinning. Kate knocked her temple against his.

Doctor Kowalewski laughed as well, taking Kate's file from Susan and scanning it for the nurse's additions.

"This is good. This is very good," the doctor praised. "Weight gain good, movements good. Very good. Any issues?"

Rick brushed his fingers over his wife's knuckles while she answered the doctor's questions and asked a few of her own. After a moment, the older woman nodded, examining Kate's belly before turning to prep the gel and the ultrasound wand.

"Very good. Let's take a look now. Then amniocentesis."

They both nodded, although the agreement was entirely unnecessary. Kate lifted her shirt and tucked the open waistband of her pants into the top of her underwear, reaching for his hand again when she was finished.

Her fingers twitched in his when the gel first touched her skin, but their eyes remained fixed on the monitor at Beckett's shoulder. Weeks ago, they had sat in almost these same spots, watching a blob so abstract it had been hard to truly believe it was their child, but today there was no mistaking what they were seeing.

Their baby. Their jumping, wiggling baby.

"Rick," Kate breathed in awe. "Look at that."

"Uh huh." It was all he could manage with his breath caught in his throat.

"Good, strong heartbeat," Dr. Kowalewski observed, giving them the opportunity to hear the whoosh of their child's heart for themselves. "Looks very good. Would you like to know?"

"Yes," they blurted together, sharing a watery grin. "Please, yes."

Dr. Kowalewski nodded, moving the wand against Kate's belly. "Just one good angle. Ah, here we are. _Vitayemo,_ it's a girl."

A _girl_.

Tearing his eyes away from the monitor, Rick looked to his wife, finding her eyes shiny and full, her lips spread with joy. His own eyes spilled over as she mouthed, _"A girl,"_ to herself.

"Kate," he whispered, getting her attention long enough to have her smile directed at him.

She yanked hard on his hand, pulling him closer, flattening her mouth to his. Their noses bumped, the angle not quite right, the kiss more than a little sloppy with jubilation, but they could only laugh and come back for another try.

"She's perfect," Kate whispered, emotion crackling in her words. "She's going to be perfect."

He nodded stupidly, panting an agreement into his wife's mouth.

"She is. She is."

A little girl with Kate's fire and her soft smile, hopefully with her grace and her compassion, too. Their little girl.

"I love you," he murmured, thumbing her cheek. Kate sniffed again, turning her head to brush her lips over his wrist.

"I love you, too."

He knew the doctor had to be speaking, had to be telling them something important about what they were seeing, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the shine in his wife's eyes, the joy, and the taste of her smile.

They were having a baby girl.

* * *

 _Episode beta work by acertainzest, ivyandtwine, and amtepe_

 _Castle Season 9 is produced by Team Planet and the writing team of Castle Season 9_ _. Executive Producer is_ _encantadaa._

 _For a full list of season 9 authors, please look at our ffnet profile._

 _Twitter: castleseason9_

 _Tumblr: castleseason9 dot tumblr dot com_

 _Special thanks to castlefanfics for promotions_


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